


First Ride

by ulrikavolf16



Category: Lord of the Rings - Fandom
Genre: Eomer - Freeform, First Ride, Lord of the Rings, One Shot, Rohan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 18:26:21
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1314796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ulrikavolf16/pseuds/ulrikavolf16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the prompt found on <a href="http://imaginexhobbit.tumblr.com/post/78948867703/imagine-you-watching-eomer-teach-your-son-how-to">this post</a> on Tumblr.</p><p>Imagine you watching Éomer teach your son how to ride a horse for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Ride

"Fæder! Fæder!" shouts the boy, his fast little legs carrying him out ahead of your longer stride. You watch as your son heads into the stables, the bright sunlight catching his golden hair before he plunges into the shadow provided by the thatched roof.  You sigh and continue to follow a step after him, apprehensive about what was going to happen next.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the change in light as you enter the stables. Your son giggles and runs across the beaten down floor, his soft leather shoes scuffing up stray hay that lay about.

"Fæder!" he giggles again, running up to the tall blond as he looked around. The boy thuds into Éomer’s legs with an exaggerated "Oooffh" and holds on tightly, looking up excitedly at his father.

"Ahhg!" Éomer jokes, faking a stumble back as if he’s been tackled by the little boy. The child laughs brightly holding on even more tightly to the leg. Éomer controls his "fall" to the stable floor, scooping the boy up onto his chest. Éomer wore no armor today. His chest, usually protected by layers of metal and leather, was covered only by a pale green tunic and a soft, worn leather jerkin. There would be no need for armor today.

The boy pushes down on Éomer’s chest with his considerably smaller hands and shouts “Got you!”, though in truth it came out sounding like ‘Goh Thew’ 

"Aye, you’ve got me my lyt beorn." laughs Éomer, shaking his head slightly to get some of his hair out of his face. "Are you ready for today?"

Your son nods excitedly. “Eoh!” he says, scrambling up off his father’s chest and heading over to the stall where the tall grey speckled horse stood patiently waiting its master, saddled already.

Éomer gets himself to his feet, grinning at the little boy, as you walk up to him.

"He seems excited." Éomer jokes. You roll your eyes.

"Not in the least. It’s not like he hasn’t been talking about the horses all morning." you say sarcastically. You try to smile at your son’s excitement, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

"(Y/N)? What’s wrong?" asked Éomer, gently touching your arms, which you had crossed over your chest.

"Nothing… its silly…" you say, continuing to watch the boy as he cautiously walks right up to the stall, looking up at Éomer’s grey steed. The horse, Firefoot, steps up to the stall’s edge and leans over to investigate the small human. He looks so small in comparison to the horse, which does nothing but make you worry more.

"You’re worrying aren’t you." says Éomer, more of a statement than a question. You shift your gaze to his face, meeting his hazel-green eyes. His expression softens.

"It will be alright. Do you doubt me as a rider?" he says with a small smirk.

"No." you say. "I’m just… I worry. Look how small he is compared to Firefoot. He’s too young. What if he fell? What if he were trampled?" you say, everything coming out in a rush.

"(Y/N). My father taught me to ride a horse when I was little younger than him. Every man of Rohan learns to ride soon after they learn to run."

"I know. I know." you say, looking down and away. Éomer takes your chin gently in his hand and makes you look up and meet his gaze again.

"And (Y/N). I will be riding with him the whole time. I wont let any harm come to him. I promise."

You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm yourself. You know everything will be alright. You nod in resignation and Éomer gently kisses your forehead.

"It’ll be fine." he says, smiling and letting you go. He steps over to where your son is stands staring up at the horse. Éomer pats the horse’s neck affectionately and then crouches next to the boy.

"Do you want to meet him up there?" he says, holding out his arms. The boy nods, as if in a daze still watching the horse. He moves into his father’s arms without looking and Éomer picks him up easily, bringing him up to where he and Firefoot can meet eye to eye.

The boy is hesitant at first, but then reaches out to touch the horse’s long face, whispering “Eoh…” as if in a dream. The horse snorts loudly  but moves his head forward to meet the boy’s hand. Éomer, with his free hand, strokes the horse’s neck gently.

"This is Firefoot." he says, talking gently to both child and horse. Your son gently strokes the fur at the bridge of Firefoot’s nose and whispers in awe, “‘irefoot." Éomer chuckles.

"When you are old enough to ride and take care of a horse on your own you shall have a horse of your own."

When it is time to ride Éomer first puts the boy down. He checks the saddle once more, speaking through how to belt it properly for both horse and rider, teaching the boy but also doing it to put you at ease. Éomer deftly swings onto Firefoot’s back, adjusting in the saddle for a moment, moving back to make room for the boy. You step up next to the horse and your son, looking up at Éomer. He nods to you and you help lift your son into the saddle, his legs not reaching far over the horse’s back on either side once he is situated before his father. The boy’s eyes go wide at being up so high all of a sudden. He clutches the pummel in front of him tightly. Éomer wraps one arm securely around the boy, letting him get used to the height.

"Are you ready?" he asks the boy. After a moment the boy nods. Éomer glances at you. You nod.

"Be careful, please." you say, stepping back. Éomer grins and nods. He gives a small click and Firefoot starts to move. A slow walk.

As the pair head out of the stable, leaving you behind, you hear your son start to giggle once more.

You sigh, a true smile finally coming to your face.

Everything was going to be fine. 

**Author's Note:**

> The language of Rohan is a dialect of Old English. Old English translations as follows:
> 
> Fæder - 'father'  
> Eoh - 'horse'  
> lyt beorn - 'little warrior'


End file.
